


hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea

by nevernevergirl



Series: woke up in a car [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:45:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevernevergirl/pseuds/nevernevergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Neal has nightmares. Emma's noticed. Tallahassee flashback era fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hold me in your arms and sway me like the sea

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of Daddy!Hook headcanon and lot of Neal-has-nightmares headcanon and a lot of Bonnie-and-Clyde-Swanfire headcanon, so this is just a lot of indulgent fluff/me trying to get their dynamic down! Big love to my bff tumblr user Zorabet for co-creating the Hook backstory part of this!

"Emma.  _Em_ ma. Emmaaaa."

Emma stirs awake at the sound of her name and the insistent tug on her hoodie. She blinks groggily, once, twice, third time's a charm-- vision finally focusing on a madman's grin.

"Neal?" she mumbles, pushing herself up, rubbing absently against the sore spot on her hip where a seatbelt had dug in. 

"Hey," he smiles, impossibly wide. "You up?"

"Am now. Thanks for that," she rolls her eyes. "Do we need to move the car?"

"Nah, they don't check this lot 'til after eight, we're good." He grabs her hand, tugging her up to sitting. "Come on, I want to show you something."

She raises her eyebrows. "It's still dark out."

"Smart girl," he teases.

"Whatever you want to show me can't wait until morning?"

"It is morning," he says, shrugging. "Technically."

She gives him a Look, distinctly unamused. He laughs, one of his best laughs-- head tilted back just slightly like the weight of it caught him by surprise, skin scrunched up around his eyes like he's too young and too old all at once.

"Come on, Em," he smiles, giving her hand a squeeze. "Just trust me."

Her stomach flutters without her permission, and she smiles back before she can think about it. 

"Fine," she mumbles, and he smiles back, delightedly, and it feels  _good_. She scrambles out of the car after him, raises her eyebrows when he guides her to sit on the hood of the Bug, but she does it. He settles down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"Cold?" he asks, voice soft and low. She shakes her head and leans in against him, comfortably.

They're quiet for a long moment, just huddling silently against each other. Neal's still got this borderline manic energy going, though-- he runs the flat of his palm up and down her arm quickly, presses sporadic kisses to the top of her head, kicks his foot to an irregular beat against the car fender. 

If she had any money to place a bet, she'd put it all down on a nightmare.

He's never told her about them, and she's never asked. She's not sure he even knows that she knows. He doesn't get dramatic about it-- no tears, no thrashing, no murmured cries. He throws bigger fits over mayo on his sandwiches. But it's close quarters in the Bug, so she's picked up on a few things. 

Like the nights when her own thoughts are keeping her up, and Neal's curled up in the passenger's seat, too tense and too still and too quiet in his sleep. Emma knows by now if you have enough nightmares and there have been enough consequences, you learn to shut up and shut down, even in your sleep. 

Or when she's woken up in the mornings by Neal scrambling into the back, his smile too bright, laughter too loud, kisses too quick. They'll make out for hours on those mornings, or she'll slip his hand under her skirt and they'll fuck right there in the backseat in the daylight, pretending they're just a couple of careless kids until they both believe it.

And night-mornings like these, when he's practically shaking with the too-anxious need to not be alone.

She rests her hand on top of his thigh, trailing her fingers absently, soothingly along his too-worn denim. 

"So why am I up?" she raises her eyebrows. He grins, pointing up.

"Y'see that, Em?"

"The sky? Yeah, Neal, I see the sky," she rolls her eyes.

"What's  _in_  the sky, Debbie Downer," he says, pointedly. "Realized we were actually out in suburbs enough to see stars."

"It's nice," she says, quietly, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Look, that bright one there," he points. She stares at him instead-- he's smiling like he's not too afraid someone's going to take it away. "That's the North Star. See the ones around it?"

"Big Dipper, right?"

"Nah, you're looking it wrong," he traced his finger vaguely in the air. "If you look at  _those_  ones, see. Harriet the four-titted ogre."

She let out a high, sharp laugh. Neal grinned at her widely, please with himself.

"The  _what?"_ she raised her eyebrows.

"There was this mermaid, right? And she fell in love with the prince of the seas, and it was all great, because he loved her back, and they were going to run off together and have sea adventures happily ever after. Or whatever. Except he was already betrothed to this evil sea witch, and she was totally pissed at the mermaid. So she cast a curse on her, and turned her into an ogre--"

"With four tits."

"Yeah, exactly," he smirked. "But that wasn't enough, because the mermaid and the prince are really in love, so he's like 'look, I don't care if you're a four titted ogre--'"

"Because she has four boobs, and he's a man and you're all  _gross_ ," Emma teased. Neal scowled.

"Hey, let me tell the story!"

"Aw, babe," Emma cooed teasingly, kissing his cheek. "You're only gross sometimes. Tell your story."

"Like I was  _saying_. True love and shit. So he's still obsessed with her, and the queen's still pissed, so she casts her into the sky. The North Star's her one eye, and it always shines brighter so her prince could always find her," he finished, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Did you just pull that out of your ass? That's, like. An actual _talent_ , Cassidy," she nudges his side with her elbow, smiling a little.

"It's old pirate lore from my past life," he quips, smirking at some joke she doesn't get. 

"You're such a dick," she rolls her eyes.

He laughs, shaking his head, pulling her close.

"My mom's boyfriend," he says quietly. "Stayed with him for awhile after my dad left. Used to drag me out in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep and try to teach me how to navigate by the stars. He'd point out the constellations with dirty stories so I could remember them."

"How Boy Scout of him."

Neal snorts in a way that makes her wonder. "Right," he shakes his head, grinning a little darkly. "He sailed. Used to say the sky was the only way to know where you're going on the sea."

"What happened with him?" she asks quietly, carefully. She's pushing it, this silent camaraderie born of skeletons in closets tightly shut. She holds her breath as he stares up at the sky, silently.

"Kicked me out," he says finally, quietly. "Hated my dad more than he gave a shit about me, I guess."

There's more to it, she can tell. But it's his secret. That's okay. She has her own.

He clears his throat, shaking his head. "It was a long time ago," he shrugged.

She nods and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together loosely. She points up with her free hand, gesturing vaguely above their hands. 

"Hey," she starts. "What's that star?"

He grins, genuinely this time, and leans over to kiss the top of her head.

"Okay, there was this pixie, right?" he starts.

Emma nods, smiling as she tucks in closer to listen.


End file.
